“Just a minute.” George Christopher’s voice was a mixture of interest and incredulity. “Henry Armitage was a preacher on the radio. I used to listen to him. He was a good man. Now you say he’s crazy?”
Hugo had trouble looking Christopher in the eye, but his voice was firm enough. “Mr. Christopher, he’s so far around the bend that he can’t see the bend from there. Listen, people, you know there were people driven nuts by Hammerfall. Armitage had more reason than most.”
“He made sense. He always made sense. All right, go on. What drove him nuts, and why would he tell you about it?”
“Why, it was part of his speech! He told us how he knew the Hammer of God was bringing an end to the world. He warned the world as best he could — radio, television, newspaper—”
“That part’s straight,” George said.
“And on the last day he took fifty good friends, not just members of his congregation, but friends, and his family, up to the top of a mountain to watch. They saw three of the strikes. They went through that weird rain that started with pellets of hot mud and ended like Noah’s Flood, and Armitage waited for the angels.
“None of us laughed when he said that. But then it wasn’t just the prisoners listening, a lot of the… Angels of the Lord, they call themselves, were circled around listening. Every so often they’d shout, ‘Amen!’ and wave their guns at us. We didn’t dare laugh.
“Armitage waited for the angels to come for his flock. They never came. By and by they went downhill again, looking for safety.
“They went along the shore of the San Joaquin Sea, and everywhere they saw corpses. Some of Armitage’s friends lost hope and died. He was in despair. They found all kinds of horrors, places where the cannibals had been. Some of them got sick, a couple got shot when they tried to go up to a half-submerged school—”
“Get on with it,” said the Senator.
“Yessir, I’m trying. The next part’s hazy. All this time Armitage was trying to figure out where the hell all the angels had gone — so to speak. Somewhere in his wanderings he got it. Also, Jerry Owen fits in somehow.”
“Owen?”
“Yes. This was the group he’d joined. According to Jerry, it was him who put new life into Armitage. I don’t know if any of that’s true. I do know that just after Jerry hooked up with him, Armitage ran into the cannibal band and now it’s calling itself the New Brotherhood Army, and it’s led by the Angels of the Lord.”
“And Jerry Owen is their general?” George Christopher said. He seemed to think that was funny.
“No, sir. I don’t know what he is. He’s some kind of leader, but I don’t think he’s all that important. Let me tell this please. I have to tell somebody.” He lifted the whiskey glass and stared at it. “This is what Armitage told the cannibals, and this is what he told us.”
Hugo gave himself time to think by finishing the whiskey. Hugo was doing fine, Harry thought; he was not going to disgrace Harry.
“’The work of Hammerfall is not finished,’” said Hugo. “’God never intended to make an end of mankind. It is God’s intent that civilization be destroyed, so that man can live again as God intended. In the sweat of his brow he shall eat his bread. No longer shall he pollute the earth and the sea and the air with the garbage of an industrial civilization that leads him further and further from God’s way. Certain of us were spared to finish the work done by the Hammer of God.’
“And these who were spared for that work are the Angels of the Lord. They can do no wrong. Murder and cannibalism are something they do when they must, and it doesn’t stain their souls. Armitage urged us to join the Angels.
“Now a couple of hundred people were waving machine guns and shotguns and cleavers and butcher knives, and this one girl was waving a fork, I swear it, the kind of twopronged fork that comes with a carving set — and all that was pretty convincing. But Armitage was convincing. Mr. Christopher, you’ve heard him, he can be damned convincing.” Christopher was silent.
“And the others were shouting ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Amen,’ and by God there was Jerry out there, waving a hatchet and shouting with the rest of them! Jerry had bought it, all of it, I could see it in his eyes. He looked at me like he’d never met me before, like I hadn’t let him live on my place for months.”
The Senator looked up from his thronelike chair. He’d been listening with half-closed eyes. Now he said, “Just a minute, Hugo. Didn’t you found the Shire with just this in mind? Natural living, everything organic and self-sufficient, no dominance games and no pollution. Wasn’t that just what you were after? Because it sounds like this Armitage wants the same things.”
The suggestion startled Hugo Beck. “Oh, no, sir. No. I just about had enough of that before Hammerfall, and afterward… Senator, we’d never realized just how much modern stuff we had. Hey, we had two microwave ovens! And that goddam windmill never made enough electricity to keep batteries charged, much less run the microwaves, and after the Hamner hit, it blew over in the hurricane! We tried growing the garden with no sprays, just organic fertilizer, and it wasn’t humans that ate most of that crop, it was bugs! After that I wanted to spray, but we didn’t, and every damned day somebody had to sit there in the dirt picking bugs off the lettuces. And we had the truck, and a rototiller, and a power mower. We had a hi-fi and Galadriel’s record collection and strobe lights and electric guitars. We had a dishwasher and a clothes dryer, and we hung the clothes out to dry because it saved gas. Oh, sure, we washed clothes by hand sometimes, too, but there was always some special occasion when we didn’t want to bother.
“And aspirin, and needles and pins, and a sewing machine, and a big cast-iron stove made in Maine for God’s sake…”
“I take it you did not agree with Armitage, then,” Senator Jellison said.
“No. But I kept my mouth shut and watched Jerry. He seemed important, and I figured if he could join up and get his own hatchet, so could I. Cheryl and I talked about it, in whispers, because they didn’t put up with any of us interrupting Armitage, and we agreed, we’d join up. I mean, what choice did we have? So we joined. As a matter of fact, all of us joined. That time. Two backed down later, at the last—”
It seemed that Hugo’s throat closed on him. His haunted gaze roamed about the room and found no sympathy. All in a rush he said, “First we have to kill the ones who won’t join. We’d have been given knives for that, I think, but I don’t know because everybody joined. Then we’d stew them. That we did, because four prisoners were dead from gunshot wounds. A rabbity little guy told us we couldn’t use two of them because they didn’t look healthy enough. Only the healthy ones! I talked to him later, and…” Hugo blinked.
“Never mind. There were two big stewpots. We had to do the butchering. Cheryl kept getting sick. I had to help her. They gave us knives, and we cut those people up, and this rabbity doctor inspected everything before it went into the pot. I saw one woman pick up a butcher knife and stand there looking at this… bottom half of a dead man, and then she threw up, and then she ran at a guard and they shot her and the rabbity man looked her over and then we butchered her, too.
“And all the time the… stew… was cooking, Armitage kept preaching. He could go for hours without stopping. All the Angels said that was a miraculous sign, that a man his age could preach without getting tired. He kept shouting that nothing was forbidden to the Angels of the Lord, that our sins were forgiven, and then it was time, and we ate and one guy got through the butchering all right, but he couldn’t eat, and they made us hold him down and cut his throat.”